The Queen
by Medandstuff
Summary: There is a reason the Queen is the strongest piece on a chess board and a reason why you only win by killing the King. AU - Klaus/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This Story begins in the 1550s and was inspired by Henry Tudor and Anne Boleyn. **

**Disclaimer: The Originals is not mine, nor is the little conversation here you recognize from the TV Show "The Borgias". **

**Chapter 1**

Fingers of golden sheen threaded through the fog, the winds intensity filtering through the branches, as the four black stallions tugged our carriage onward. Outside I could hear hooves of at least ten more horses – maybe fifteen – all muffled by the muddy road beneath them.

I recognized my brother Aedan´s fleeting form at the helm of the party. The young sunlight hitting his armor created a halo about him, engulfing him in brightness. He kept his eyes strictly on the path we had been following for weeks now, not daring to turn back, not daring to meet my eye. Beside him rode Charles Brandon, apparently neighbor to our residence in Great Britain, as well as friend to my father. They whisper he was stripped of his titles after the King caught him abed with his sister, which was hardly doubtful, for once because the call her, the great whore of England, surely not without reason, and second because the good Charles Brandon had quite a reputation as well.

Despite that I was pure-blood English, I felt rather like a foreigner in my home country. For when I was two years old, my Sister Evelyn and I were shipped off to live in France, because our father had secured us a steady family seat at French court. He had climbed the ladder to power over the bed of King Francis, having my elder sister lure him into bed. But now that the King of England is tiring of the French alliance, we were no longer safe in the chambers of the enemy.

* * *

**_Paris, a month ago_**

_"What kind of sick perversion is this, Brother? You would have me become King Niklaus´ mistress for gaining his favor?" I exclaimed through gritted teeth, feeling the blood boil through my veins as I kneaded my hands in my lap. _

_"I had no choice!" Aedan retorted defensively, although pity nested in those crystal pools of blue. _

_I stood immediately, the wooden stool pushed back with a shrill shriek. Striding towards him, I leveled my eyes to his. "You weak, shameless pitiful excuse! If I was a man, I would have run him through! I would have cut his tongue out before I let him speak about my own sister in this way!" _

_"It was for the good of the family, I had no choice!"_

_"You had every choice!" And just as those words of venom left my mouth, my hand struck him hard across the face, leaving a pulsating angry red mark. _

_He gasped in mere surprise. I had rarely raised a hand on him in my life. Especially for the crimes not he had committed, but my father. I tried to control my inner demons, but instead they possessed me. A part of me felt the guilt arise; the rest sentenced him guilty. _

_He filled the few steps between us, framing my face with his hands gently, the pads of his fingers digging into my tender flesh. He rested his forehead against mine and gazed me into the eyes, our lashes touching. "I would have killed him where he stood. I would have cut his heart out of his body, but I restrained myself, for the good of the family."_

_"So the King of England shall make me his slave, _for the good of the family." _I said barely above a whisper, the shoulders sagging in just slightly. My stare withheld my brothers, unbroken. _

_"I am so sorry." The unbearable ache in his voice infected my chest, dragging it through my whole body limb by limb. And the anger alighted. I desired to remain mad at him, to hate him for forcing me into this. But I knew this wasn´t his fault, he´s nothing more than a puppet in the games my father was playing. Like we all were. _

_Exhaling, I tore away from him. "Even if he were to have me, who says he would keep me? Rumor says he has never invited a woman to his bed twice. And do not forget that he´s married to another." _

_"Perhaps you will find a way to make his liaison to you permanent. I am well aware of your _charms_, Sis, and not only the ones you had learned at French court. There is something about you, Lyanna… not even a King could resist. Those eyes of yours are like silver hooks for the soul." He skimmed my cheek with his thumb, dipping forward to touch his lips to my forehead. _

* * *

The sky was flushed with pink and orange tones, the sun sinking lower and lower on the horizon when, the large carriage came to a halt. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I carefully, not to startle her, squeezed my sister´s hand to wake her. "Evelyn." Her breathing hitched, and after a moment her eyelids fluttered open, revealing grey-blue irises. A wrinkle deepened between her sculpted brows as she stared at me, obviously confused.

"What?"

"I think we have arrived," I gulped the information, peering over my shoulder through the window. The last rays of sunlight illuminated the castle walls of the great keep, two men stood by the gates – I identified my father immediately and suspicioned the other man to be my uncle – their dark shadows stretching largely behind them. Some horses surrounding us whined at the lack of movement, as their riders dismounted them.

I instinctively clutched Evelyn´s hand, seeking support, and she gave it a reassuring press. "Calm, Sister. You needn´t fret."

"Of course I need to! He hates me, Eve. We have not seen him ever since…"

"I know, but you´re not to blame! It was mother´s decision, hers only."

Flashes of her smile, the smell of blood and roses and her brave bright eyes glistening with tears, all those things I avoided thinking of, forced their way to the front of my mind, painfully knocking against my skull. The saddest part is that I don´t even remember what she looked like, just parts of her face remained to me, the rest had blurred. A lonely sob escaped my lips, joined by another.

"Stop!" She hissed, alerted by an upcoming outburst, her gloved hands hooked behind my shoulders, shaking me. "Lyanna, quit it!"

With a shrill creaking sound the door by my side was pulled open, inviting some fresh air in to neutralize the thick tension within the carriage. I sobered up instantly, whipping around, a few strands of raven black curls tumbling out of the lilac netting in process.

I could barely identify the man standing before me, expanding his hand for me to take. He had been a boy of fifteen the last I had seen him, with crooked teeth and smiling amber eyes. Now he was a fully grown, with stumbles framing his mischievous grin.

"Welcome home, dearest cousin," he greeted, the bright smile eating up half his face, his dirty blond hair falling onto his forehead.

"Eugen!" I breathed, the corners of my lips curving upwards, spreading until it mirrored his expression. "Look at you, how much you have grown."

I courtly placed one in white silk wrapped hand into his open palm, and held my purple skirts out of the way of my feet in the other as he lead me down the three steps. "I cannot say the same about you," he said mockingly, a playful spark glistening in those amber orbs whilst he looked down upon me.

"Oh do not mock me, dearest cousin; after all I used to beat you in every game we played." I tapped my fingers on his chest, squinting against the orange sunlight shining into my eyes, with a challenging smirk on my lips.

He snorted in retort, looping my arm with his own. "Lying is a sin, Anna-"

"Then I must be a Saint." I interrupted him mid-sentence.

"Please," He rolled his eyes, "But no more of that, my father and yours are already awaiting you. We will surely find time to discuss this later."

I nodded stiffly, unable to mutter a response, for the joy I had been feeling dusted in my mouth. He covered my hand with his; giving me a small smile, continuing towards the gates.

Feeling their eyes on me, I straightened my posture and lifted my chin. Evelyn stood next to my uncle, attempting to lure him into a conversation with her, so he paid less attention to me. But she failed miserably, because as soon as I stepped closer, his attention was with me. I untangled my arm from my cousin´s, walking the last few strides on my own.

The gaze of my father was emotionless and icy cool meeting mine, displaying the state his heart was currently in. It has morphed into nothing much but a cold, shapeless stone, ever since my mother´s body was buried. And I feared him, this affectionless creature. So I shifted my gaze towards my uncle, his brother.

His face was warm and welcoming, quite contrasting, actually. I sunk into a curtsy, bowing my head to the two elders in respect. "Father. Uncle."

"Rise, my child." I heard my uncle order, and obliged. "We welcome you into our home, may your stay be pleasant."

"I am very thankful for that, uncle. I hope not to be much of a burden."

"Nonsense, Lyanna. Now if you will excuse me, I will show your sister to your chambers."

Nodding, I said: "Of course."

With a friendly smile from him and a sympathetic look from my elder sister, they disappeared inside the keep.

"Sweetheart," My father, Jonathan De Vere, called. I refrained from wincing at his sickly sugarcoated tone.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Have you been informed why you´re here?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Excellent." He said, with a brittle smile deforming his lips, the worn-out skin wrinkling around it. "You will be attending the Usurper Sister´s masquerade ball tonight, the whole Mikaelson clan will be there. I have made sure your costume draws attention, it is up to you to catch the eye of the _King."_

"Yes, Papa," I repeated again with a hoarse voice, shrinking back slightly, like a cornered animal.

He grabbed hold of my chin aggressively, grasping it between his thumb and index finger. Hovering above me, a flame no seven seas could put out twinkled in his eyes, as he sizzled like a snake: "You better not disappoint me, Lyanna. I would have the king, his army, all forty thousand men and their horses fuck you too, if it means I achieve my goal. Be thankful that it is only the King. _Do we have an understatement?"_

A cold tear dripped down my chin, onto the rough surface of his rigid hand. Satisfaction had brightened his features at my fright, the smile broader than before. I swallowed my fear repeatedly, until I managed to speak. "Yes, Papa. Of course, Papa."

"Good," he purred, shoving my chin away.

* * *

I had been dressed up beyond recognition, taking a second look like a castaway that sees land after months spent on the sea, until I found a piece myself in this mesmerizing beauty.

Feathers of black and feathers of crimson red clung tightly around my chest and waist, before pooling to my feet. The handmaiden´s tightened the lacings around my breasts ´til they might spill out; adorning me with rubies and gold. The plumb lips wore the color of blood as well, sparkling with petite jewels. The area surrounding my silvery orbs was hidden behind a mask resembling the flames in a hearth. Black from the coal they rubbed on my eyelids, had the two pale moons stand out perfectly. The black waves were braided skillfully atop of my head, held there together by a thin golden circlet.

And I realized; they had turned me into a Phoenix.

I marveled at the sight of this foreigner a little while longer, before I decided to throw the black velvet cloak over my shoulders and exit the room. Aedan was already waiting outside my door, with his fists stuffed into the pockets of his leather pants. He was clad in black, with an enormous red cross stitched to his chest. A sword in its sheath was attached to his hip. His face was clean and shaven and the black mop of unruly ringlets recently trimmed.

"The archangel Michael," I perceived, grinning, "Every man dressed as Lucifer tonight must fear his life."

"I am only following the lord´s instructions." He winked at me, positioning my arm in the crook of his elbow. "You look magnificent this evening, little sister."

"My thanks, I am glad the sight of me pleases you at least once in a while."

He bumped his hip into mine friskily, and I laughed, gripping his forearm to not lose my balance. Beaming down at me, he guided me into the frosted grey carriage.

* * *

The King´s palace was grand in the pale moonlight, the lights shone as bright as the stars on the sky above. People swarmed the yard, the hall, the gardens, and the corridors. Servants with plates of delicious food passed by, the folk of the court with their identity hidden behind masks and costumes sipped on the expensive vine, a slow, but sultry song rang through the castle, reaching even the yard where I stood, observing. It surely was a great affair.

I rarely got to enjoy such feasts in France, for King Francis dread an assassination from the English or the Spanish. He was a very cruel man, all kings ought to be. Because you can´t win a throne with love, it craves hate to rule a country. Rumor has it; King Niklaus Mikaelson gathered more hate and spread more fear than any King before him. All of England calls him the Usurper behind his back, but dares not to say it to his face. _And I am to become his mistress, _I thought bitterly.

"Stay put, Sis." Aedan whispered into my ear, "I will be right back." Before I could form a question, he vanished in the crowd of people with his back to me.

I sighed, a steam of smoke coming from my nose blurring my vision. The giant stallions seemed as uneasy as I in this mass of strangers. My hand reached out, stroking over ones silky dark coat.

Feeling sudden pressure over my stomach, I stiffly glanced down finding an arm encircling my waist. Before I could even gather enough air to scream for help, a hand covered my mouth, muting me. Panic rose within me, pumping adrenaline through my veins, and I began struggling against my captor, effortlessly.

I felt the heat of his breath tingling against my neck.

"Relax, darling," a male voice hushed.

**A/N: And, who do you think is it? Take a wild guess! I think you know it. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the first chapter. If you did, or didn´t, leave a Review and let me know. If you have questions, write them into your Review and I will answer them in the second chapter. **

**Cheers, Med.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Feeling sudden pressure over my stomach, I stiffly glanced down finding an arm encircling my waist. Before I could even gather enough air to scream for help, a hand covered my mouth, muting me. Panic rose within me, pumping adrenaline through my veins, and I began struggling against my captor, but effortlessly._

_ I felt the heat of his breath tingling against my neck. _

_"Relax, darling," he hushed._

Long, thin fingers wrapped tightly around my throat, draining me of air. I choked, gripping onto the masked man´s wrists, the sole of my shoes struggling to stay on the ground. Stars sparked before my eyes, the darkness cornering me. His nails carved half-moons in my delicate flesh, blood trickling out the wounds, his pads bruising the milky white neck. A gagging sound escaped my lips, and reactively my head was slammed against the stone wall once again.

I couldn´t recognize the man, distracted by the physical pain he was causing me, but his eyes were pitch black, two holes trapping a damned soul. Death slowly crept up on me, utter blackness engulfing me, the hint of freedom dangling in front of my face and all I had to do was reach for it. I was so terribly close. Seeking for something worth fighting for, worth surviving, I widened my eyes.

In the dim light, the man strangling me transformed into my father and he smiled broadly. It would bring him satisfaction, doubtlessly. Jonathan De Vere would appreciate my leaving this world, he´d toast to my death when he found himself alone. He´d enjoy it. Another face whisked over his, it was layered in cold sweat and pale as the moon itself. Silver eyes revealed to me, and for a moment I thought I was hovering over my empty body. Until the corners of her scraped lips turned upward into that brave and reassuring smile, the smile that used to visit my dreams each night. It was her. I considered the possibility of already being dead and reunited, but quickly dismissed it when a voice broke through the surface of the haze.

"Aren´t you quite a _tasty little thing_," He whispered into my ear, loosening his grasp just a little. I gasped for air, the chance of salvation being snatched away. My feet steadied flatly onto the ground.

The tip of his nose dragged sluggishly down my cheekbone, nostrils flaring over my heated skin. The pulsating in my ears increased as my heart race quickened in response. It battered furiously against its ribcage, as if trying to escape. I whimpered meekly.

He withdrew, glancing down at me, wearing a quite humored smirk. My spine stiffened in fear, my tired hands sinking to my sides. I raised my chin, and pressed my lips to a thin line, because if I was to die tonight I might as well go with dignity. It had been the last memory of my mother, and I would follow her example gladly.

"Ah, a brave one! My favorites!" He remarked in an excited tone, mouth stretching to reveal a set of shining teeth. Those dangerously onyx black orbs lowered to the collar of my dress, his hand sliding off my throat. I swallowed another whimper. His bruising fingers tenderly drew along my collarbone, sliding upward to hook in-between my neck and my shoulder. I inhaled sharply, counting it to be my last.

Without warning, he pressed his body further on me, his feet planted between mine, his breath fanning over my face. I closed my eyes, a mute murmur of prayer dragging over my lips.

Feeling his hand carefully touch my cheek, my eyelids fluttered open again at the gesture. He had been gazing at me with some queer fascination, tilting his head to the side lightly, his lips no longer deformed into a sadistic smile. The weak light of the candles flickered, illuminating his face. His features were angelic, but I have known that even Lucifer had been beautiful, for he was the lord and savior´s favorite. And this man, he was the devil.

He leant forward, his nose touched mine gently, as his haunted eyes bored into mine. "Don´t scream, don´t struggle," he ordered, no amusement in his voice. I observed his pupils widen slightly, before returning to the same state.

From his black irises spread shadows like golden rays surrounding the sun. I instinctively inched back, the sharp stones scraping my heels. The terror stirring within me, had my whole body shake violently. This man, was no man. Not of human race. A Demon, or Lucifer himself. He must've been possessed, his body taken as vessel by some evil. The fear had taken advantage of me, gnawing on my self-control until there's nothing left. And I screamed. I screamed for help, but it reached only deaf ears. I screamed for a miracle, screamed for God to save me. My shaken body gained on power, absorbing it from my unheard pleas. I kicked and wringed, I hit his chest with my bawled fists. I fought, even with his suffocating hand back on my throat.

"Let go off me," I cried loudly, adding "please" in a whimper.

"You better stop now, darling, I am not known for my patience," He hissed kneading my neck, pressing it tighter.

"Help," I coughed out, with the last bit of air I managed to steal from my lungs.

"Brother, I believe the Lady has asked to be freed," An unfamiliar male voice interrupted, from behind the devil in a mansuit.

Frigidly, my eyes snapped to the owner of the voice. He had his firm jawline clenched, his short trimmed dark brown hair was slacked back from his hairline, and under the bushy eyebrows his dark orbs were focused on my captor, whom he called brother. White velvet, with golden stitching covered him from collar to the ankles, only the boots he wore were of deer hide. The view of his brother molesting a woman seemed to be quite common to him, for his eyes were swathed with patient boredom.

"Not now, 'lijah, it has been two days. I'm starving."

"Kol. This will end. Now.."

For the first time, Kol's intense glare wandered from me to his brother, his grip on me loosening absently again. "It's over when I say it is."

"You attracted too much attention already since last week. You're leaving bread crumbs behind you, for Mikael to find us. So let the girl go, and I shall not say a word of this to our brother."

"I do not care what Nik thinks of me."

"Of course you don't. But nonetheless, you would not wish to be cross with him. Considering his punishments." Kol's brother bit the last word out tensely.

"Have it your way then, noble Elijah. You´ve rescued yet another damsel in distress." Displaying his hands over his shoulders innocently, he took a step back, allowing some space between us. I gathered my skirts in my hand, to not accidently stumble over it and slowly made my way into safety, with an unsure feeling in my insides. It could not be quite over then.

And it wasn´t, as soon as I had turned my back to him, I felt the pressure of his fingers digging into my hips, drawing me backwards. I gasped, colliding with his chest, instead of the wall. The warmth of his breath tickled against my ear shell, his mouth hovering above my earlobe. The heat spread from where his lips barely touched my skin, fright mingled with queer lust had me releasing a shaky breath.

"You escaped me once, darling, how are the chances you escape me again?" He whispered in a husky voice, and I felt his smirk against my flesh, before he withdrew himself. With only that, he vanished into the shadows, with a whistle on his lips.

I stood, astonished, on my two feet, staring in the way his footprints have marked the ground. My hands shook, so I fisted them. Stricken by the fear, nausea built up within me. I swallowed, it did not help. "My Lady?" I heard the man called Elijah call worriedly, but I was already striding towards the nearest railing.

My fingers gripped the cold steel so tightly, knuckles turning white, and I bent over it. With a gagging sound, I vomited into the bushes, feeling my stomach clench; I spat the sour taste out afterwards. As a comfortingly warm hand touched my exposed shoulder, I straightened my back immediately, whipping my lower face-half with my forearm.

"Pardon me, my Lord, it has all been just a tad bit stressful."

"No need to apologize," He said politely, offering me his arm. I gladly took it. "I should probably take you to the healer."

"There is no need. I bet my brother is already searching for me, I have to go and find him before he goes mad."

"Then I shall escort you to him…" After a short moment of silence, he began speaking again. "You have to excuse my brother, he had always been a bit-"

"Sadistic?" I offered numbly.

"Difficult, would rather be my word of choice. Sometimes he takes it too far with his harvest pranks."

"_Pranks? _My Lord, no offense, but I wouldn´t call that a prank. Your brother wanted to take my life."

"I can promise you this was not his intention. He just took it too far this time, but you are now under my protection. He shall not bother you the rest of the evening." He swore, although it did not bring me relief.

"I saw his eyes, my Lord. They were not human." I whispered desperately, clutching to his arm.

Stopping in his tracks, he reached out behind my head, pressing his pads to the back of it. I had been too startled by the lack of movement to react instantly. I winced at the contact. His hand pulled back, smearing some crimson moisture between his index finger and thumb. After spending a moment only glaring at it, I realized it was my own blood.

"You have hit your head pretty badly, my Lady. Perhaps your eyes are playing tricks on you. Are you sure you do not want me to take you to the healer?"

"I´m positive," I said, nodding, even if I wasn´t. _He is right, my mind is playing tricks on me, _I thought, trying to convince myself, but failing miserably. Another voice insisted my head injury was not to blame, for I´ve had many of those. Nonetheless, I didn´t mention it again.

* * *

Cheering music, rambunctious laughter of the folk, loud horrible sounding singing and women chit chatting could be heard from afar as we strolled toward the entrance of the great hall. Servants hurried in with full plates of delicious food, and exited with empty ones soon after. They looked distressed, sweat layering glistering on their foreheads. I pitied them.

Elijah, however, seemed not to notice. Not that I was implying he did not care, I simply assumed his mind was elsewhere. His masked face was drawn into the direction of the large door of wood and iron, and he remained utterly silent. A steam of his breath came evenly out of his mouth and nose, his eyes – that looked very much like Kol´s, but only a shade brighter – were strictly directed onward, as if I was not in his presence.

When we finally did reach the hall, I was instantly busy searching the massive crowd for the black unruly ringlets of my brother. Most people were dancing in pairs, swirling through the entire floor. The others drank the finest wine out of copper goblets by the rows of long tables, discussing politics and such. But none of them even resembled Aedan, it left me feel hopeless to find him.

"LYANNA," A familiar voice boomed, and a wave of relief crashed over me.

He fought his way through the crowd, running hastily up the stairs until he reached me, with a bewildered look in his crystalline blue eyes. "Where were you? What is that on your neck? Are you hurt? Who did this?! Lyanna, will you tell me what happened? I swear I will gutter that bastard, he will meet my wrath!"

The words left his mouth so quickly, I could barely make them out, yet respond. He had grabbed me by the shoulders, squeezing them, trying to pull me out of trance.

I laid a silencing hand on his chest, and his mouth obeyed by falling shut. "Peace, brother."

Turning to Elijah, my savior, Aedan followed my example. "Aedan, this is Lord Elijah…" I trailed off, for I never learned his last name. He had never properly introduced himself to me either.

"Mikaelson," He finished, expanding his hand to my brother, who shook it hesitantly. Realization whisked over me, my eyes widening. He was the King´s eldest brother, and Kol probably his youngest. It took me a moment to comprehend that information, he was no Lord, he was a _Prince_.

"My apologies, your highness, I have been degrading you to a Lord this entire time," I said, absolutely mortified.

"No need for apologies, my Lady, I am no better than you are." He remarked, the corners of his lips curving upwards.

Before I could say as much as another sentence, the loud music stopped as well as the chit-chat and the laughter. "I believe it is time for the toast," Elijah whispered in an under-tone, so only I could hear, "May I, Lady Lyanna-?"

"De Vere. But please call me Lyanna, and yes you may," I insisted, looping my arm through his as he led me down the staircase, his existence in the room splitting the mass of people through the middle whilst we walked. Aedan´s protective hand occupied my shoulder, shielding me from the glares of the folk.

Arriving in the inner circle of the King´s most loyal friends and family, I recognized only one particular pair of dark orbs. _Kol Mikaelson_. When he caught me staring at him, a wicked smirk twisted his lips and I felt the terror sinking into my abdomen again. I may have held a little too tight on Elijah´s arm, for he covered my hand with his, tapping it reassuringly. His stern eyes shot to his youngest sibling, forcing him to look away.

"My friends!" A thickly accented voice yelled, and even if I had never met him, nor he wore a crown, I knew this was the King of England, towering over his people, speaking to them.

He wore blue satin and his legs were in black leather breeches, knee-highly hidden by polished boots. He wore no gold, not even silver; his proud posture _only_ heightened him above anyone.

I found myself standing in eyesight of his majesty, and his lean but masculine body loomed so large, those blue eyes of the color of the sea during a thunderstorm with dark blond curls falling into them laughed brightly, the smile so dazzling with dimples at each end, he was incredibly handsome. Although, the rumors of his cruelty were still in my thoughts, I could not quite understand how _he _could even be any evil.

"Like every year, my beautiful sister Rebekah hosts this special harvest feasts for me, for you, for _us_. And like every year, she has outdone herself."

_The great whore of England _was a marvelous beauty, her hair of molten gold spiraled over her shoulder, her eyes resembled her King brother´s with dimples dancing like stars beneath them. Her lips were plumb, framing her pearl white set of teeth. The dress she wore was of crimson red silk, hugging her curves, and unlike many other women in this hall, her skin was in a shining bronze tone. She was indeed _England´s most desired, _considering the looks that got thrown her way. The folk cheered for her.

"Now, my friends, I´d like to raise my glass to another year. May the wine never stop flowing, and the feet never get tired!" He raised his goblet high above his head, tipping it toward his guests, and the rest shortly followed his lead.

"To England!" A man in the back row shouted.

"Aye!" Everyone agreed.

I let go of Elijah´s arm, receiving my own red wine from a young servant girl, with chubby cheeks and two plaits on each side of her head.

Stepping forward and out of the circle of royals and loyalists, I decided it was time to fulfill the task my father has given me. I lifted my hand, my delicate fingers wrapped around the goblet, I gestured towards him. "To the King!"

The cups clicked against each other, some of the liquor spilled onto the floor, sounds of loud agreement hummed through the mucky filled hall. Tipsy laughter, wet smooches, and hugs were shared, but I paid no attention to them.

Mademoiselle LaVeaux, a wise Parisian lady with grey hair and red lips, once told me when you first meet the eye your soul mate; you feel the drizzle of the rain on your skin.

But what would she say, if I told her, I felt a hurricane.

**A/N: Well hello darlings, this was chapter number 2, I hope you enjoyed it. **

**IdaRose89 – Obviously this chapter answered your question. I have a great future planned for Kol Mikaelson.**

**Thank you to the other reviewers, you rock!**

**Now, in the next chapter we will have some Lyanna/ Nik action! **

**You better ****REVIEW**** if you want the new chapter soon and tell me what you think of this one, and what you liked or disliked!**

**Bye bye, Med. **


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